


A Place In the Shadows

by Dancingsalome



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingsalome/pseuds/Dancingsalome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cold in both body and soul, Vanessa finds an unexpected comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place In the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redsnake05](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/gifts).



> Dear recipient,
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this story. One of the things I love about Penny Dreadful is how it manages to evoke such things as smell and sense, not just sounds and vision. I tried to capture some of that in this fic as well.
> 
> I labeled this fic Gen, but there is a hint of Vanessa/Sembene.
> 
> Thanks to LilacFree for beta-reading.

The first weeks in Sir Malcolm’s house, Vanessa couldn’t get warm. No matter how many shawls she wrapped herself in or how close she sat to the fireplace, the chill inside her never went away. She huddled underneath Sir Malcolm’s cold gaze, his contempt freezing her, even though he had agreed to ally himself with her for their mutual goal. At night she lay sleepless, shivering in linen sheets that didn’t seem to retain any warmth.

Unable to rest, she walked barefoot through the dark house at night. A lady never walks without proper footwear, it had been one of those lessons her mother had taught her, but she thought of it as a penance. Once she and Mina had run barefoot through the gardens of their childhood, the bright sunlight warming them, and she still remembered the tickling softness of growing grass beneath her soles. Here, the floor was cold. Hard planks polished to a glossy shine, or bristly rugs, prickly to walk on as she wandered through the empty rooms. As empty in the daytime as they were at night. Daytime ought to have the house filled with people, servants and family, with brisk movement, talk and laughter. But now the rooms lay silent, day and night alike. In a house that ought to be full of life, there was only Sir Malcolm wrapped in his frozen misery and she wrapped in hers. And then there was the enigmatic Sembene, walking in a silence completely his own.

A sudden scent wafted towards her as she crossed the hall. An elusive hint of warmth and comfort and she followed it down the stairs towards the kitchen. She had not ventured there before. Here the floors was made of stone, even colder than the floors upstairs. Slightly rough under her feet, except in the middle where countless busy heels over countless years had worn the stone smooth.

Vanessa stopped in the doorway and looked inside the kitchen. After the iciness of the corridor, the air inside the room was warm and filled with the fragrance of lemon and almonds, the very scent she had followed. She was not alone, Sembene stood by the table, carefully measuring flour into a bowl. 

“You are cold,” he said eventually, without looking up. “Come in and sit down.”

She padded over the floor and sat down in the chair he motioned at, leaning her elbows against the table. He continued stirring, adding spices and liquids, before he covered the bowl and put it away. Vanessa stared in fascination. She had never considered what pastime a man like Sembene would enjoy, but if she had, she would never have imagined it would be something so mundane as this.

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“We deal with our nights as we see fit when we can’t sleep. I find the art of baking soothing.”

Suddenly laughter bubbled up inside her. Tension she hadn’t known of left her face. It was almost painful when the small frown between her eyebrows evened out and she smiled at him.

“You plan to feed your demons to the death with delicious cakes? Or perhaps bribe them into submission?”

Sembene’s dark eyes sparkled with mirth. “It might work.”

Vanessa continued to watch him for a while as he cleaned up before she spoke again.

“You are not really a servant, are you?”

“In this city, in this country, the role of a servant is the only place people can consider for a man like me. So here, I am a servant. But it was not the life I once had.”

Sembene put tea leaves in a pot and poured steaming water over it before he opened the oven and removed a cake. The rich scent tenfolded and Vanessa realised she was hungry. For a long time, food had just been something she put inside herself to be able to endure yet another day. It had been a long time since she had craved anything, or even felt a pang of hunger.

Now she stirred milk into her tea and wrapped her stiff fingers around the cup and sipped. Sembene cut a generous slice of the cake and put it on a plate in front of her. Vanessa broke it in two and on an impulse she offered one half back to him. He took it with solemn ceremony and they ate together in silence. The cake was hot in her mouth and among the almonds and lemons she could also sense a hint of vanilla. Vanessa finished her slice faster than was proper and was rewarded with another slice. Cake and tea brought warmth into her body, spreading tendrils from within, like a small fire.

“I think this cake is the best thing I have ever eaten.”

She watched his serene face, the rows of scars casting shadows over his cheeks. They were old, made on a younger, not yet mature face and Vanessa wondered if he had been scared when the knife had cut them. Somehow she didn’t think so. She could imagine a young Sembene enduring the pain and blood with the same dignity he displayed in all his actions.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked.

“Because I’m afraid of my dreams. And because I don’t belong here. I belong nowhere and it exhausts me, but still keeps me awake. I wish I knew when it would all end and be over with.”

Sembene looked at her with steady eyes. “You do belong. You belong here with Sir Malcolm and with me. We are kin here in this house for those who has nowhere else to go.”

“Sir Malcolm hates me.”

“No. He loves you, but sometimes those two feelings are very hard to tell apart.” He paused. “I don’t think he likes you very much, though. But then, he doesn’t like himself either.”

Vanessa wanted to ask him if he liked himself, but she sensed he wouldn’t answer. Not tonight, anyway. Sembene rose.

“You will sleep tonight. I will watch over you.”

He kneeled in front of her and took one of her feet in his hand. There was nothing subservient over the gesture, or seductive, but the heat of his skin against hers still felt oddly sensual and unexpectedly filled her body with another kind of warmth.

“You are still cold. No one can sleep with their feet like icicles.”

Rummaging in a cupboard Sembene found a hot water bottle. He filled it with water from the kettle and gave it to her. Vanessa wrapped her arms around it, feeling more warmth seeping into her.

She smiled at him again, such a practical gesture, but also a kind and caring one and it had been a long time since anybody had offered her such a gift. He went out of the kitchen and up the stairs and she followed him. Outside her room he sat down on a chair, a safe bulk in the darkness, a protective shadow to guard her.

“Sleep now. Tonight you are safe.”

The sheets of her bed felt frigid, but she curled up around the warm water bottle and slowly became warmer. But it was the glow of an unexpected friendship seeping into her soul and making it a little bit less lonely which made her fall asleep.


End file.
